Bruises
by bballgurl119
Summary: Right after the war Ron and Hermione examine eachothers' wounds, both emotionally and physically.


**Title:** Bruises  
**Genre:** Romance  
**Pairing:** Romione  
**Rating:** T  
**Summary:** Right after the war Ron and Hermione examine eachothers' wounds, both emotional and physical.  
**Warnings: **Nudity? (Not really, but I guess in a way.)

* * *

It was over, it was finally over. They were done. No more hunting for fragments of Voldemort's soul, no more pleading and praying for each other to be alright all of that was gone. The thing was, what do they do now? They've spent their entire life hiding, hunting, they've devoted their lives into stopping Voldemort and in a second he disappears. No one knew any other life. One hour ago, there was a war being held at Hogwarts. Now, it's desolate.

The Weasley's had already gone home, with them Harry and Hermione. Normally in a great time of catastrophe, people would gather, but insted they were spred apart. Everyone in their bedrooms, pondering on the loss of their brother. Not even Molly had stepped out of her bedroom. She wanted to console the rest of her family, but she just couldn't. She didn't want them to see her cry, because in her mind it would only make it worse for them.

Hermione passed Harry in the kitchen, they were miserable too but that wasn't the overwhelming emotion inside their hearts. It was mainly confusion, and guilt. If they'd been only a bit quicker, or a little bit stronger, many lives could've been saved. It didn't matter now, it only mattered then, and in case you hadn't noticed then is past tence.

"Do you need help cleaning up dinner?" Hermione asked.

"No, I think I got it." Harry cut up some chicken and shoved it in a container.

"Then I'll go do some laundry."

"Need help with laundry?"

"No, I think I got it. They're probably the only wizarding family with a washing machine." She attempted a joke, but failed to get anything but a nod. "You okay?"

"I don't think I'm the one you should be asking." He retorted. She knew he was right, she knew who needed to be talked to, but the thing was as selfish as it may seem, she didn't want to talk to him. When he got hurt, he became fragile, and when he's fragile he breaks easily, and when he breaks, he's destructive. Turns out that it's not that Hermione simply didn't want to talk to him, she was scared to. She inhaled loudly and began climbing the stairs with a basket in hand.

"George?" She asked through the closed and locked door. "I'm doing laundry so if you have-" Without saying a word, or even showing his face, he dropped a pile of clothes outside the door. She looked at the pile for a minuted then closed her eyes. "Look," She said gently. "I can't say that I know what you're feeling because I don't know what you're feeling, I'm not you. I can't even imagine, to be quite honest I don't really want to. But there's one thing I can say, is that someday things will get better. I'm not going to lie to you but things are going to get worse before they get better, but eventually they will get better." Hermione gathered the dirty clothes and packed them into the laundry basket then rose to her feet. "I promise."

It seemed that everyone had heard what she'd asked because there were small piled of clothing located outside almost every room. When she was about to knock on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's door, she heard loud pleading and sobbing. Hermione lowered her hand, she would have to do theirs later. When she finally made it up to Ron's room she took a deep breath. His door was cracked slightly, she leaned in quietly just to make sure he wasn't dressing or anything. He wasn't. Insted he was sitting on his window sill looking out at the dusk sky. She stepped in.

"Hey," She started, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm doing the laundry and if you have anything that needs washing." She ran out of words.

Ron stood up and looked at her, he silently averted his eyes to look at his ripped and torn shirt. He gently tugged at it. "I loved this shirt." He chuckled slightly. "I still wanna keep it."

Hermione nodded. "You can still keep it." She whispered. He looked down once more and tried to undo the buttons with one hand. When that became difficult he attempted to raise his other arm he groaned and gritted his teeth. Hermione just looked in wonder.

"The Carrows," Ron began to explain. "One of them exploded a tapestry and a chunk hit me in the back of the shoulder." He sighed. "If I didn't know better, I'd say it's broken." He lifted his head and met her eyes. Cautiously she stepped forward. Her nimble fingers slowly worked the first button, then the second. The further she went the more of his skin was exposed and the harder it was for her to proceed. With every button undone, the room seemed to raise ten degrees, but maybe that was just his breath on her skin. She whipped around him and slowly pulled the fabric from his shoulders. He wasn't lying about the hit. There was a dark purple bruise the size of a mousepad on his back. She trickled her finger tips down the wound and he flinched.

"That hurts?"

"A little." He groaned. She wadded up the piece of clothing and threw it in the basket.

"You okay?" She asked.

"No." She walked around to face him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes." Ron confessed. "But I want to take a bath first."

"Okay." She agreed. "That sounds like a good idea. I'll take one too."

"Meet back here in a hour?" He asked. She nodded.

He dropped her off at the bathroom on the third floor, then went down to the one on the second. She ran the hot water and plopped right next to the tub, running her fingers through it until it got full enough to bathe in. Hermione stripped her clothes, putting them into her beaded bag as they came off. She grabbed her towel and set it next to the bath. She settled in slowly, but then sharp pain began to cascade through her leg. Hermione'd completely forgotten about the gash on her inner mid-thigh. It wasn't deep but it was long at least four inches across. As much as it hurt, she went in farther. It was a wound that needed to be cleaned. She looked down, there was also a small cut just above her left breast and another on her fore arm. Not to mention all the small specks of dark purple across her torso. She sunk in and let the water creep up her chest, but stop at her neck. She ducked her entire head underwater and came up calmly smoothing her hair. With a washcloth, she scrubbed her face. It was amazing how much soot can stick to your skin. The water was almost black. Hermione sat back and let her body go limp. It was the first time, in a long time, that she was able to relax. She took deep, heavy breaths then let them out. The warm water felt good. She felt as if she could spend forever in there, but Ron needed her.

When she got out, she realized that the only clean clothes that she had left was a white tank top, and a pair of knickers. She desided to conjure up a bath robe to put over it so she could make it to Ron's room with out being half naked wondering about the house. Carrying her bag in her hand she made her way up to Ron's room. On the way there she stopped by the clock. It was eleven thirty, and every one was in bed. Including Ron. When she entered his room, he was lying on his side with the blankets up to his chest. From what she could see, he was shirtless. Hermione sighed and approached the side of his bed, he rolled around.

"You're late."

"I know. I'm sorry."

He sat up and reached for her leg but she scooted over and looked at him. "You're hurt?"

"I would have fixed them myself but," She took a breath. "This is going to sound rediculous but I don't know how."

"I can fix them for you." Ron offered sweetly. "Bill taught me how."

She nodded.

"Where are they?" He asked. Hermione untied her robe and let it fall on the bed.

"This one hurts the most." She turned her thigh out and showed him. She tried to act as if it wasn't awkward for her but it was. They'd only kissed not even twenty-four hours ago and now she was in her knickers spreading her legs for him. It was for help, but still. Ron grabbed his and pointed the tip at her wound them muttered something that she couldn't hear and instantly the pain was gone. "Thanks."

"Is that it?" He asked.

"Well there's this one and this one." She moved her hair aside to reveal the one on her chest and showed him her arm. He muttered the spell again and they were gone.

"I already healed mine so," He set his wand on the table then climbed back into bed, where Hermione joined him. He threw the covers over the both of them as she snuggled into his chest. He lied flat on his back and studied the ceiling. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Do you love me?"

"Is this what you wanted to talk about?" She questioned.

"Part of it. But I want to know," Ron let out a breath. "Do you love me?"

"Yes." Hermione answered. "Expecially now."

"Great." His voice broke. Hermione looked up and could tell that he was about to start crying. "Then that makes being a complete mess in front of you even worse."

"Hey," She tried to comfort him. "It's okay. I don't care. If fact I think it's sweet."

"Really?" He doubted.

"Yes. Because it shows that I'm not with a statue." He rolled and buried his face in her neck. She stroked his hair tenderly. "It's okay." Her own lip began to quiver. "It's going to be okay."

Ron's hot tears rolled down her chest, and her own down her cheeks. After a while both of their sobbs subsided. Ron shifted so that he could lie facing her, insted of on her. Their fingers entertwined and they didn't say a word, just look into eachother's eyes. "Hermione?" He asked.

"Yeah?"

"I love you too."

Hermione giggled. "I know."

"So what do we do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Everything we've worked up to is over." Ron said. "What do you want to do now that everything's finally normal?"

"I don't know." She looked at their hands. "There's so many things I want to do."

"Like what?"

"I want to promote S.P.E.W, I want to change the Ministry and make them treat muggleborns the same. Things like that. What about you?"

"I've wanted to be an Auror since I was little but lately," He bit his lip. "I don't know it's like something's come over me. I kinda want to be a writer."

"And write what?" Hermione wondered.

"I don't know."

"You could write about us." She suggested. Ron looked a her lovingly. "I'm sure everybody would love to know the inside story."

"Yeah," He chuckled. "But Harry'd murder me."

"That's probably true." She brushed some hair from his face, and in return he reached behind her head and undid her pony tail. "Why'd you do that?" She asked.

"So I can do this." He ran his fingers through her hair lightly, and drew her closer. Their lips met in a feathery touch as she wrapped her arm around his waist, pulling him even closer to her. Instinctively he hitched her leg over his, caressing her soft skin when he rolled on top of her. Ron buried his hands in her hair and Hermione groped his back feeling his skin and every muscle that tenced. She began to sweat as her emotions intencified. He lifted his weight, so he was just hovering above her. He pressed his forehead to hers.

"You can touch me if you want to." The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them. Without raising his head he looked at her.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

Ron lowered his lips to meet hers again and his hand slowly tickled down the side of her body all the way down to her leg. He firmly, but gentley grabbed the inside of her knee and brought her calf over his waist. Slowly but surely, he made his way back up her side until he found the swell of her breast. As soon as he was about to give her what she wanted he pulled away and clambered into the sitting position then leaned against the headbord. Hermione did the same.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I don't feel right." He confessed. "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

"No, you're not." She assured. "If anything, I'm taking advantage of you." She reached for his hand and gripped it tightly. With sad eyes, Ron looked up at her.

"I just don't want to screw everything up. I can't lose anyone else, and I most certainly can't lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere do you understand." Hermione leaned in closer to him. "I'm not going to leave you, not when you need me."

His eyes looked black in the darkness when he looked at her. "I think we should get to bed now." He suggested. "Will you stay with me?"

"Of corse." Hermione smiled. "That's what I just promised isn't it?"

They layed down side by side, two warm bodies in one bed. They'd slept together before, but it didn't seem to have as much meaning. When she rolled over, turning her back to him he wrapped his arm around her waist and cuddled with her, burying his nose in her hair making them both laugh slightly. But there was one moment that she'd never forget, one thing that sent chills down her spine. When right before he desided to drift to sleep, he gave her a lingering kiss on the shoulder. It was the first time he'd ever kissed her someplace other then her lips or cheek. She wanted to talk to him in the morining, she needed to talk to him in the morning. They needed to sort things out and decide where their relationship was going, but it was going to have to wait until morning.


End file.
